


Good For Me

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Catholic School, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Locker Room, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, inspired by ezra in beware the gonzo whoopsy, modern equivalent to alleyway blowjobs, threatened gangbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 22:05:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10448577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: His protection comes at a high price





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jeahtastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeahtastic/gifts).



> this is cross posting from tumblr, originally written and posted march 3rd, mainly because of accio-graves teased me with a catholic school au with some dub/non-con credence being the boys favorite toy.  
> alas thats been delayed so this was my take on that.

It was like something out of a nightmare. There was an arm pressed into his throat and he couldn’t breathe, while nearly ten others crowded around, menacing and threatening without a word. Just a handful of looks.  
  


“When are you going to stop walking around and being a total tease Barebone? Put those pretty lips to good use.”  
  


Credence couldn’t speak, he just blinked frantically, hoping that maybe, just maybe this once, God would hear him and save him. He’d never answered when ma was beating him. He still never gave up hope.  
  


A hand was already scraping into his hair, and he was being strong armed down onto his knees, feet scrabbling to stop it, but slippery on the wet tile. He could only pray harder that his towel wouldn’t fall off and further humiliate him.  
  


He hadn’t gotten completely dried off before heading to his locker and he’d never regretted it more.  
  


“Go on, open wide.”  
  


He squeezed his eyes shut, and kept his mouth closed tight, teeth clamped over his lips, shaking his head just slightly.  
  


The hand in his hair tightened til it felt like his scalp was on fire, and he was being yanked forward, his cheek smashed into the rough fabric of the jock’s jeans.  
  


“Hey… what’s going on here?”  
  


A deep voice echoed around the room, and Credence thought he might pass out, before the hand left him, and he was finally free, slumping against the closest locker behind him, staring up at his deliverance, who was standing beside the jock, glaring down at him.  
  


“Just having a bit of a chat with Barebone, Coach Graves.”  
  


“Is that right? Looks more like you’re gearing up for some sort of gang bang. That’s very unsportsmanlike conduct if you ask me. Go on. Get out of here. Practice is over. Barebone, come with me. I have a first aid kit in my office for those cuts.”  
  


Credence hadn’t even realized he was bleeding until the man pointed it out, and he nodded, swallowing around the soreness of the bruises forming on his neck at his throat.                      

 

Coach Graves was an intimidating presence, and a strong man who’d been many things before he came to Ilvermorny high. Credence knew all about him from school gossip and more, but there were some things he didn’t know if they were true or just rumors.  
  


Like the reason he had grey hair was because he dyed it on purpose, or had started stress taking cocaine on his time off after quitting the police force in Chicago and moving to New York.  
  


He was shivering as he looked around the man’s office, hands clinging to the knot in his towel and feet cold against the harsh carpeting.  
  


“Barebone, has that sort of thing happened before?”  
  


The man was behind his desk, leaning over a stack of papers and looking through them, seemingly avoiding him.  
  


“N-no sir.”  
  


Coach Graves glanced up at him, and he couldn’t move, think, or do anything but stare.  
  


Dark eyes pierced into him and rooted him to the spot.  
  


“Don’t bother lying to me. I’ve seen this, preying on the weak… it’s because of your luck of the genetic lottery I’m afraid. No hiding that.”  
  


Credence gulped.  
  


“Sorry sir, what do you mean?”  
  


He looked down at himself, skinny beyond reason for all the food he ever got was courtesy of the cafeteria, and he didn’t even have a hair on his chest. He was hideous.  
  


Coach Graves walked around his desk and approached him slowly, tilting his head as he studied him,  
  


“They hurt you, because they want you. I could protect you. If you do something for me.”

Credence blinked, and then Coach Graves was even closer, so near that his breath was hot on his neck,  
  


“Sir?”  
  


“Will you take that off?”  
  


Credence jumped as a warm hand caressed his side, fingers grazing down his waist to the edge of his towel resting on his hip, and he swallowed thickly again, feeling a dangerous coil begin building at the base of his spine.  
  


It was the sort of thing that led to him waking up from explicit dreams and in sweaty sheets.  
  


“My towel sir?”  
  


“Yes. Then I want to see you stroke your cock for me.”                     

 Credence’s eyes widened, seconds before Coach Graves’ mouth made contact with his own, a slow drag of lips and teeth against him that would have made him squeak in protest, a _man kissing him_? But the hand tightened on his hip, fingers dipping under the band of the towel and touching bare skin that no one had ever seen nor touched _in his life_.  
  


“Sir…”  
  


He gasped into the kiss, and the man moved in further, pressing his large and strong body into Credence’s, trapping him against the door to the office and making him feel dizzy, as he felt something hard digging into his hip.  
  


“Go on then. Show me.”  
  


With a flick of his wrist, the man had pulled away his towel, the final layer to his dignity, and Credence turned his head away, cheeks flushing in shame, his cock hot and heavy curving up against his stomach.  
  


“Sir… I can’t…”  
  


A strong hand snagged one of his hands simply flailing at his side, and guided it to his own cock, wrapping his fingers around the hard length and stroking slowly, breath leaving his lungs in short pants, Credence found himself staring at himself as the man continued to touch him, using his hand as a tool, in a way.  
  


“Beautiful.”  
  


The head was slick and shining with pre cum, and he was almost afraid from how good it felt, too good, too much, it was never like this when he did it, alone in the dark safety of his room.  
  


“ _Sir…_ ”  
  


He put his other hand to Coach Graves’ shoulder, fingers gripping tight on the fabric of the man’s jacket, as he felt his knees give out, his climax taking him by surprise and yet more welcome than he could have ever dreamed.  
  


“Oh look, you’ve made a mess of my pants. Why don’t you clean that up?”  
  


The man was nibbling over his neck and down to his collarbone, making Credence squirm, but hasten to do as he was told, shivering slightly still.                      

He was kneeling on his towel, so it wasn’t as painful as it had been in the locker room, and besides, the man’s hands were gentle and soft in his hair, as one pressed and palmed his groin, rubbing himself, Credence gulped, before reaching up shakily to undo the zipper and button, pulling a hand back to tentatively lick at his fingers.  
  


It was bitter and salty, slimy almost, but he wanted to be good, to earn his protection from such a strong and handsome man.  
  


When he revealed Coach Graves’ cock, he thought he might pass out. It looked too big to fit in his hands let alone his mouth, but he leaned in, and pressed a kiss to the head.  
  


“Good boy.” The man purred at him, and Credence gulped, before opening his mouth and trying to take more of it between his lips, praying that it wouldn’t be forced.  
  


Coach Graves didn’t press or push him, he let Credence set his own pace, but did seem to like it when he swallowed around his length, and petted the back of his neck, fingers curling into the short hairs there, making him shudder.  
  


“I’m going to take care of you, those pretty lips belong to me now, understand?”  
  


Credence blinked back tears and nodded as best he could, before he heard the man groan, and thrust forward, not quite choking him, as hot jets of come hit the back of his throat.  
  


The man’s hands framed his face, and slowly pulled him back, thumbs rubbing of the top of his cheeks,  
  


“Don’t cry sweet thing. I keep my promises.”  
  


* * *

__


End file.
